


Adventures in Human Fragility

by moonymuffin



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Sick Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 03:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1842619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonymuffin/pseuds/moonymuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Stiles, I really think we should take you to the hospital,” he says, clenching his jaw against the smell.  He had suggested it the first time, to which Stiles’s reply was to groan and slam the bathroom door in his face.<br/>“Derek, I am just sick. Go back to bed,” Stiles rasps, “Actually, no. Bring me some water, and then go back to bed.”<br/>“This does not look like ‘just sick’.”</p>
<p>aka the one where Stiles gets the flu and Derek overreacts</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adventures in Human Fragility

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't really know what to rate this. 
> 
> Masturbation makes a blink and you miss it appearance, and the Hale fire is alluded to, so take that as you will.

He begins panicking the second time he feels Stiles throw himself out of bed, only to collapse to the bathroom floor and empty his stomach into the toilet bowl. Derek follows after him, watching his muscles clenched with the force of his gags. Stiles’s back is slick with perspiration. When it stops, he kneels perfectly still for a few moments before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and sprawling himself across the cool bathroom floor. Derek can see tear tracks staining his pallor complexion.

  
“Stiles, I really think we should take you to the hospital,” he says, clenching his jaw against the smell. He had suggested it the first time, to which Stiles’s reply was to groan and slam the bathroom door in his face.

  
“Derek, I am just sick. Go back to bed,” Stiles rasps, “Actually, no. Bring me some water, and then go back to bed.”

  
“This does not look like ‘just sick’.” Stiles glares in reply, and makes to get off the floor swaying on his knees. “God, ok. I’ll get your damn water, just stay on the floor.” He grabs the glass off the bedside table, refills it with cool water from the tap, and hands it to Stiles with a skeptical look.

  
Stiles takes it gratefully sipping the water. He meets Derek’s gaze and sighs, “I really appreciate your concern, but I’m not lying, I just have the flu or something. Don’t worry.” He tries to smile, but it turns to a grimace when he tries to get up again. Derek huffs, and scoops him up off the floor carrying him back to bed. He tucks Stiles in, and watches him snuggle down into the mattress. “Mmmmm… you’re the best,” he sighs easing back into slumber.

Derek stands stock still at the edge of the bed until he’s sure that Stiles is sleeping, before moving back to his side of the bed to crawl under the covers with him. He tosses and turns. Eventually, he has to toss the blankets off of himself as the heat radiating off Stiles becomes too much to bear. He stares up at the ceiling listening to Stiles’s sniffles and groans. He looks over at the clock, the bright red 4:30 blinding him.

He glances over at Stiles, listening for the slowed heartbeat that comes only with his sleep. Satisfied, he slips out of bed. He tiptoes over to Stiles, and scoops him up as gently as he possibly can – Stiles’s head lolling over his bicep. Derek carries him smoothly out of the loft, and eases him into the back of the Toyota - thanking whatever possessed him to donate the Camaro. He softly shuts the door. Derek sprints around to the driver’s side, practically throwing himself inside before peeling out of the parking lot.

He hears a grumbled sentence from the back and he glances back at Stiles’s shifting form. However, his heartbeat remains consistent, and Derek breathes a sigh of relief.

When he reaches Scott’s, the lights are all – expectedly – out. He looks at Stiles in the rearview mirror, before quietly slipping out of the vehicle. He runs up the porch and bangs his fist against the door.

The door is ripped open from underneath his fist, and Scott braces himself against it while rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “What do you need, Derek?” he yawns.

“You need to go get your mom,” he rushes.

“What? No! It’s 4:30, and her shift ran late - I am not going to wake her up!”

“Scott, she needs to help Stiles!” At the sound of Stiles name Scott straightens, his eyes going wide before he spins on his heel and runs up the stairs – only to run straight into Melissa.

“What the hell is all the commotion?” she groans, loosely clutching her bat. “Oh, of course, Derek, because who else would be at my house in the dead of night in only flannel pants?”

“Mom! He says something’s wrong with Stiles.” The color drains out of her face.

“Where is he?”

“In the backseat of my car.”

“You go get him, and Scott go spread a sheet out on the couch,” she yells over her shoulder running back up the stairs.  
Derek sprints to the car, and scoops up Stiles – far less carefully now – jostling him awake.

“whazzgoinon?” Stiles mumbles, blinking blearily up at Derek. He looks around him, and then whips around to glare at Derek. “We better not be at Scott’s, Derek, I swear to God.”

“I wouldn’t, because that is exactly where we are,” Derek says matter-of-factly.

“Derek, what the hell,” he hisses. He struggles weakly against Derek’s grasp until he gives up and crosses his arms tightly across his chest.

“Ok, get him in here, so I can look –“ Melissa calls as Derek deftly maneuvers Stiles through the doorway placing him gently on the couch.

“Melissa, I am so sorry. I told him repeatedly that it wasn’t anything to worry about,” Stiles rushes, pushing himself into a seated position.

“Stiles, it sounded like your stomach was clawing its way out of your throat multiple times, you are a thousand degrees, and kept groaning in pain. That is not fine. So, forgive me for not trusting someone with no medical training whatsoever,” Derek growls.

“Seriously, Derek? You pulled us out of bed for the flu?” Melissa throws an accusatory glare in his direction. Stiles flings his arms in the air in exasperation with a huffed, “Thank-you.”

“I thought he was dying.” She softens at the admission.

“Well, I may as well check you over – seeing as I’m already out of bed.” She goes about taking his temperature and asking him about his symptoms. Then she turns to Derek with a small smile.

“Ok, so he does have the flu –“

“Which I told him!”

“ – which can be life-threatening,” Melissa throwing an annoyed look at Stiles. Derek looks jubilantly at him, which causes Stiles to sulk against the couch. “But, due to the fact that Stiles is a teenager - and a relatively healthy, hyperactive one at that – he will make a full recovery.”

“What should I do?”

“Nothing,“ Stiles groans, rolling his eyes.

“Just make sure he get lots of fluids, preferably ones that will give him something extra like Gatorade, broth, or juices. He’ll probably be on bed rest for a day or two, so that means don’t get involved in anything life-threatening because he always gets right in the middle of it,” she shoots a glance at Scott who looks guiltily at the floor, “Cold compresses can help with the fever. I can give you some pills to help with the other symptoms, since I am assuming you don’t have any at your apartment.” She laughs when Derek shakes his head. “He’s going to be fine, absolutely no need to worry.”

He heaves a sigh of relief and smiles gratefully. “Thanks, I’m sorry I got you out of bed for, apparently, something normal,” he says, rubbing his neck as a blush creeps up his cheeks.

“Well, at least we know that you won’t leave him on the side of the road to die. With that, I am going back to bed. If someone wakes me again tonight, it better be for someone with barely a pulse. Goodnight, boys.” She grabs her bat, and slowly trudges back up to her room.

“Can we please get home, so I can stop being pissed at you and go back to feeling sorry for myself?” Derek’s heart quickens, and Scott shoots him a knowing look before bending down to help Stiles up. He helps Stiles into the car, shutting him inside before turning to Derek.

“Dude, seriously? You need to calm down. I know you’re, like, all head over heels for him – don’t bother denying it,” Scott adds when Derek opens his mouth, causing him to snap it closed again, “and I know that Stiles doesn’t really know what’s best for him, as evidenced from the past, but if he says that he’s fine, maybe call or shoot me a text first. I know you don’t really know how to deal with human fragility, but - having been the most fragile human ever pre-bite – I do. They really aren’t all that fragile at all, so just breathe.” Derek just looks at him, stunned. Scott laughs and claps him on the shoulder. “Take it easy, man. Good luck with sicko over there. Fair warning, he turns into even more of a whiny asshole,” he raises his voice at the end, loud enough for Stiles to hear, and laughs at the muffled profanities coming from the car as he walks back in the house.

Derek smiles as he makes his way into the car, as Stiles tries to defend himself against Scott’s accusation. Derek just leans over the console to lay a kiss on his slick forehead, which effectively shocks him into silence. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

The first day of bed rest goes relatively smoothly, minus Stiles having to sprint to the bathroom every few hours to get sick. Derek makes sure that he is consuming a constant stream of a variety of fluids, and keeps administering a cold compress to Stiles’s face. But, his exhaustion and medication keep Stiles sleeping throughout most of the day.

 

On the second day, however, Stiles becomes antsy.

“Dude, I don’t know what to tell you, besides you should’ve seen this coming. When has Stiles ever been able to stay still?” Derek can hear Scott’s exasperation over the phone, “He had a day of rest just let him get up.”

“Your mom said two days, so I think I will stick to the advice of a medical professional.”

“Actually, she said ‘a day or two’ –“ Derek growls at him, “Fine, I don’t know just find him something to do. I have bigger things to deal with than Stiles being sick.” He hangs up, and Derek throws the phone on the couch in frustration.

Derek rounds up a bunch of books and the laptop – that Stiles had forced him to buy – a carries them up the stairs to his bedroom. From the open doorway, he can see his distinctly Stiles-free bed, and said boy digging through the drawers of his dresser, half-dressed. He can see the grossly lopsided button job on the plaid shirt. “What do you think you are doing?”

Stiles jumps at the sound of his voice, and gives Derek a sheepish smile over his shoulder. “Well, seeing as I’m feeling better, I thought that I would go help Scott with research.”

“You can help Scott tomorrow,” he says, dropping the distractions on the bed and setting about undoing Stiles’s buttons, “Right now, you are going back to bed.”

“Mmmmm… only if you come with me,” Stiles rasps in his ear, running his fingertips up Derek’s arms to clasp his hands around his neck.  
“Well, as great an offer as that is,” Derek says, unlinking Stiles’s arms and guiding him back to bed, “I’m going to have to pass. I can feel how hot you’re temperature is running from 5 feet away.”

“I’ll give you hot,” Stiles pulls him down on top of him, his mouth quickly finding Derek’s. Derek can feel him struggling to breath through his stuffy nose, and moves to begin mouthing at his neck causing Stiles to clench his eyes shut and tilt his head to the side to provide him with more access. Derek uses the distraction to slowly sneak the comforters back over Stiles, tucking them tightly around him. Stiles’s eyes fly open as he struggles against the comforters, looking outraged at Derek. “What are you doing?”

“You need to rest,” he says pulling away from Stiles’s neck.

“I am feeling fine. I haven’t even puked today. Plus, I am bored out of my freaking mind,” he says indignantly.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I brought things to do,” Derek says simply, “Now, you are going to rest in bed, and watch this movie – you insisted we download weeks ago – with me.” He rolls off Stiles, positioning the computer at the foot of the bed, and curling his body around Stiles’s blanketed form.

They are part way through the movie, Derek combing his fingers through Stiles’s hair, when he sees the covers sifting around Stiles’s lap.

Stiles lets loose a groan, that sends Derek flying off the bed.

“What are you doing?!” he shouts.

“Entertaining myself, seeing as you refuse to participate,” Stiles says, shoving the covers off his chest to give him more range of motion.

“Fuck – can’t you just once do what I tell you?”

“I think I know more about how to treat the flu than you would, seeing as I have been associating with those capable of catching it my entire life – in fact, I am obviously one myself,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“If you somehow forgot, it isn’t by choice that I fulfill your first point!” It slips out before Derek can stifle it. Stiles looks like he was slapped, and Derek feels guilt pool in his stomach.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Stiles says solemnly.

Derek sighs, coming to sit back beside him on the bed. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just –“ he looks down at his hands in his lap, “I need you around. We deal with enough dangerous crap on a regular basis that I can’t have you taking risks when it comes to the normal stuff.”

Stiles places his left hand on top of Derek’s, and he grips it gratefully. He places a kiss on his shoulder, and whispers, “I know.”

Silence settles around them as Derek strokes Stiles hand with his thumb. “Ok, I will make you a deal, Grump” Stiles says, Derek humming in reply. “I will stay in bed for the rest of today without propositioning you - ” Derek cocks an eyebrow at him, “or playing with myself – as long as a) you stay in bed with me and cuddle, b) you never tuck a blanket that tightly around me again, because, dude, that was fucking ridiculous, and c) you let me tease you indefinitely about how much your love for me has blinded you to rationality.”

“You have a deal, asshole,” Derek laughs tackling Stiles back on the bed, and tickling him until he’s gasping for breath.

**Author's Note:**

> I go by the same name on tumblr, so come bug the hell out of me.


End file.
